Adam Adamant Lives!, Season 1
(BBC, 1966)
Victorian gentleman adventurer Adam Adamant (Gerald Harper) is revived in 1966 and paired with happy-go-lucky groupie Georgina Jones (Juliet Harmer). With invariable plot elements and little character development, the programme followed Get Smart in relying heavily on the charisma of its leads.
The Complete Peanuts: 1975 to 1976
by Charles M. Schulz (Fantagraphics, 2010)
An ever-so-slightly flat couple of years. Schulz remains head-and-shoulders above the competition but takes a few missteps in his search for new storylines and characters. Though not entirely efficacious, the attempted reinvigoration demonstrates an intent to pursue rather than rest upon laurels.
Escape to Witch Mountain
by Alexander Key (Westminister Press, 1968); audiobook read by Marc Thompson (Playaway, 2010)
A straightforward, somewhat odd, ultimately pointless yet still rather engaging middle-grade quest adventure in which two children with supernatural abilities go on the run. In the audiobook Marc Thompson’s character voices sound inexplicably as if they have been inspired by Fraggle Rock.
Spy vs Spy: Missions of Madness
by Antonio Prohías (Watson-Guptill, 2009) [Reprinting “Fourth Mad Declassified Papers on Spy Versus Spy”, 1974]
The formatting of this Spy vs Spy collection unfortunately does the comic few favours, enlarging each panel but spreading the stories out across many small (125x190mm) pages. Preserving the original layout at an enlarged Franco-Belgian size (210x300mm) would have made more sense.
Service of All the Dead
by Colin Dexter (Macmillan, 1979); audiobook read by Samuel West (Macmillan, 2017)
Dexter begins with a lengthy series of inciting incidents to which readers are privy but Morse isn’t. Morse then solves the mystery by mooning about irritably, his moribund thoughts kept equally inscrutable. Sans John Thaw’s embodiment, the whole effect is rather dismal.
Dr. Seuss Goes to War: The World War II Editorial Cartoons of Theodor Seuss Geisel
by Richard H. Minear (The New Press, 1999)
Minear provides detailed historical context through which to appreciate (or occasionally question) Theodor Geisel’s distinctive, beguilingly Seuss-esque wartime cartoons. Each drawing is presented on its own page but regrettably this is not a complete record. Many more are referenced but not included.
Cocaine Blues
by Kerry Greenwood (McPhee Gribble, 1989); audiobook read by Stephanie Daniel (Bolinda, 2010)
Greenwood evinces as no-nonsense an approach to plotting as does the irrepressible Phryne Fisher to solving mysteries and bucking societal norms. The result is a fast-moving romp through 1920s Melbourne, more worldly than Wodehouse but with a similarly delightful turn of phrase.
Sapphire & Steel, Assignment 4
by P. J. Hammond (ITV, 1981)
The shortest and most coherent assignment to date, albeit still one that relies more on character and otherworldliness than conventional storytelling. Sapphire and Steel encounter a powerful disruptive force that can move in and out of photographs. The visual effects remain impressive.
Doctor Who: The Faceless Ones
by David Ellis & Malcolm Hulke; dir. Gerry Mill (BBC, 1967/2020)
The mostly lost Patrick Troughton story brought to life by way of animation. This one is well-acted and a nice blend of atmosphere and intrigue, albeit a tad overlong and that the antagonists insist on lumbering themselves with a moonboot-sized Achilles heel.
Peanuts Every Sunday, 1952-1955
by Charles M. Schulz (Fantagraphics, 2013)
Everyone comes from somewhere and this is Peanuts before the characters grew up, both physically and emotionally (even artistically). There are nascent hints of what the future holds but even in large-format colour it’s difficult to digest Schulz’s work being this unsophisticated.